Harry Potter and the Second War
by Prongs1979
Summary: A seventh year fic, following the actions of Harry as he searches for Voldemort's horcruxes and an end to the war, along with his friends.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK, I'm just having some fun with her characters.

Prologue:

An unseasonal mist shrouded the hills surrounding Godric's Hollow. From the street one could just make out what had once been a house at the top of the hill, removed from the rest of the community. Somewhere nearby a faint pop sounded, disrupting the otherwise still night.

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, had appeared on the street of the home he couldn't remember. The weather was quite warm, but Harry tugged his cloak tighter around himself and walked towards the house. He had gotten halfway up the hill when two more pops sounded. Harry whirled on the spot, his wand raised.

"Harry! Don't!" Hermione and Ron were running towards him, Hermione looked quite cross indeed. "Honestly Harry we said we'd just be a minute, you didn't have to leave without us." Harry shrugged and pocketed his wand, turning back towards the house. Ron and Hermione shared a glance, neither one had felt returning to Godric's Hollow the best idea for Harry, but they turned and followed him, determined that he shouldn't be here alone.

"What _are_ we looking for?" Ron asked after some time. Hermione glared daggers at him but Harry wasn't annoyed. He was starting to feel a little foolish himself, he didn't know what he had expected to find here. Some clue, a horcrux? No, this place wasn't important to Voldemort, only himself. There was such little left it was hard to tell a house had once stood here, and nothing to suggest anyone had been here since. Resigned to his first search being a failure, he turned to tell Ron they could leave, when another pop sounded behind him. With his wand at the ready Harry peered into the night, trying to make out the intruder through the fog. Much to his surprise a thin, redheaded figure burst through it. And though this was only a slightly more welcome sight than a death eater, he breathed a sigh of relief before turning incredulously to face Ginny Weasley.

"Just what in the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?" Ron had beaten him to the punch. Before Ginny could answer, Harry had grabbed her by the arm and was marching back down the hill.

"Leaving, come on."

"Let go of me- I can walk- LET GO!" Not wanting to be on the receiving end of Ginny's bat bogey hex, which had quite the reputation, Harry let go of her arm, but didn't stop his descent towards the road. Ginny called after him, "Wait! You don't have to leave because of me, I can take care of myself, I'm not in danger!"

"We were leaving anyway," Harry said, "Come on."

"We were?" Ron asked. Hermione shrugged and set off after Harry, leaving Ginny behind glaring at them.

"I'm not a child!" she yelled.

"We're leaving," called Harry.

"Ginny come on," said Ron, "we're getting out of here."

When no reply came Harry turned exasperatedly back towards the house, and what he saw made his blood chill. Ginny had her back turned to them, and was staring up at the house, where the dark mark suddenly loomed, casting everything beneath it in an eerie green glow. "No," breathed Harry, "Ginny!" He was already halfway back up when the death eaters appeared from behind the house. "Stupefy! Impedimenta!" Harry was desperate, he wouldn't get there in time. Ginny remained frozen. "Ginny!" She turned, finally, and looked at him, fear etched across her face. One of the death eaters saw Harry and yelled something, crimson streaks were fired towards him. He stumbled over a rock, and his glasses fell off. His vision blurred; he saw Ginny running towards him. Then a flash of green light from behind her blinded him, "NO!"


	2. The Final Farewell

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK

Chapter 1: The Final Farewell

"NO!" Harry shot up in bed, shaking. His hand shot out instinctively for his glasses and he lost his balance, crashing off his bed and hitting his foot on the dresser. Slowly, his heart stopped pounding, and he glanced around him. He was still in Number 4 Privet Drive, he hadn't gone to Godric's Hollow, Ginny was still alive, and definitely not able to apparate. As his terror ebbed away and was replaced by a numb pain in his foot, he groped around for his glasses. One glance at the clock told him it was 2:30. His uncle was probably lying in bed, using all his strength to keep from breaking Harry's door down. That thought cheered Harry a bit, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dread his nightmare had caused. It wasn't the first. They'd come and gone since the end of term. It wasn't always Ginny, sometimes Ron or Hermione, others Lupin. He had already seen so many people he cared about dead. He wouldn't get anyone else involved, he couldn't be the reason for another death. Not Ginny's.

Harry would have given anything for it to be different, but since he'd heard the prophecy just over a year ago he'd known in a sense he was on his own. Nothing had made that more clear than Dumbledore's death. Dumbledore was the one person that had always been there, a pillar of light in an all too dark world. While he was around nothing could hurt Harry. Now that feeling of security was gone, replaced with a sense of just how alone Harry really was. Well, thought Harry, that's what war is. And make no mistake, the wizarding world was at war. With each day's Daily Prophet the tidings got more and more dismal. The Prophet was the only major source of news for Harry, his friends were too busy to fill him in on much at the moment, but that would change tommorrow, when he left the Dursley's for the last time. With that pleasant thought he turned over to try and fall back asleep and finish his last night at Privet Drive as quickly as possible.

The morning found Harry through the beak of an owl, pecking his hand to notify him of its arrival. Harry groaned and rolled over, "Pig, get off!" He sighed, and removed the letter from the tiny owl, which, evidently having not been told to get a response, stole some of Hedwig's water and flew out the window after a quick lap around the room. The letter was disappointingly short.

_Harry mate,_

_Hermione is coming by to pick you up from the muggles, _

_she'll be there at_ _11 this morning to bring you to the Burrow._

_Say farewell to those creeps forever!_

_See ya soon mate, _

_Ron._

Contented that he would soon see the last of his relatives Harry dragged himself out of bed and began packing the few things he had let sit until the morning. After he finished throwing his last two books and a robe into his trunk he went to let Hedwig out of her cage. "I'll let you fly ahead to the Burrow okay? Take care of yourself girl." The owl gave a soft hoot of goodbye and vanished through the open window for the last time. Harry looked at the clock to see that he still had nearly an hour to kill before Hermione arrived. He decided to chance heading downstairs for a bit of breakfast. Harry had informed the Dursleys when he arrived - on their doorstep much earlier than expected - that he wouldn't be staying very long this year, and then he'd be gone for good. The only response he'd gotten to that was an approving grunt and "Why are you home so early this year, boy?"

Though he doubted any of the Dursleys would be up this early on a Sunday, Harry descended the stairs as quietly as possible anyway. He wanted to slip away unnoticed and let the Dursleys just become a bad memory. It was with some surprise then, that he walked into the kitchen to see his Aunt and Uncle already up and at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. He entered somewhat hesitantly, the Dursleys and he had not had a real conversation since he came back just under a week ago, and he was not particularly inclined to change that.

"Up, are you?" Uncle Vernon asked, his eyes peering over the top of the newspaper. Harry gave a curt nod from the doorway, wondering if he shouldn't have just waited for Hermione in his room. "Hmph. Might as well have something to eat then, before you leave."

Harry paused, that was the most non-hostile he could ever remember Uncle Vernon being to him, off the top of his head, "Thanks," he said, and moved to take some eggs from the oven and sit down at the table, where he steadily avoided making any eye contact with his relatives.

"So, why did you arrive here so early this year?" his Uncle apparently did not share Harry's desire for a silent farewell meal.

Though he really couldn't think of a reason to, Harry decided to oblige his Uncle's curiosity. "Our headmaster was murdered," he said around a mouthful of eggs. He didn't particularly care to discuss Dumbledore's death with someone he knew would care even less than Rufus Scrimgeour, if possible.

"Dumbledore's dead?"

Harry looked at his Aunt, who had looked up from her meal for the first time since he entered the kitchen. Not sure of what to make of her sudden interest, he simply nodded. She seemed to have put her momentary lapse of forgetting the magical world existed aside however, and went back to eating.

"Well that just goes to show," Uncle Vernon said, "Having your headmaster murdered; what kind of a people…" Harry tuned him out, his Uncle's hatred of the wizarding world was not news to him, and if it couldn't be abandoned on his last day with Harry, well, what had he expected? "…would never happen at a school like Dudley's" his Uncle finished. Harry made a noncommittal grunt and continued eating. Shortly thereafter the ringing of the doorbell signaled Hermione's arrival, exactly at 11. Uncle Vernon scowled at the door as if it had personally offended him and said, "That'll be them then will it?"

Not wanting the first thing Hermione saw to be his Uncle's not all too welcoming face, Harry went to open the door himself. He opened it to find Hermione standing on the front step, looking nervous but as though she'd prepared herself to face someone far less friendly then Harry. She stepped into the house looking relieved, "Oh Harry, it's so good to see you! You got Ron's letter then? You're alright?"

"Hi, Hermione," Harry allowed himself a smile and let her engulf him in a hug; she had clearly been worried over how he was holding up since Dumbledore's funeral. "My stuff's just upstairs, let me get it and we can go." Eager to leave, he bounded up the stairs and went into his room to grab his trunk. He was about to step back out into the hallway when he turned and looked back in the room. Not a large step up from the cupboard he had inhabited previously, he wasn't sure why he felt odd leaving it behind. Probably because it was the only place in the house that had largely been sanctuary from the Dursleys for him, he thought. It was there that he had studied magic by wandlight, fed Hedwig, and stored treats from Mrs. Weasley. It looked strangely empty now, all of his possessions loaded into his trunk.

He turned to go back down the stairs and stopped in his tracks when he saw Dudley standing at the far end of the hallway, staring at him. "Leaving are you? Heading off to live with the other freaks?"

It took all of Harry's strength to suppress every urge he'd ever had to hex Dudley, "Yeah," he said, "Bye." Without waiting for a response he heaved his trunk down the stairs and found Hermione waiting, "Alright, shall we go?"

She hesitated, glancing back towards the kitchen, "Don't you want to say goodbye? Not at all?" Harry sighed, Hermione would never give up on people, and he guessed it couldn't hurt to have some closure, after all.

He stuck his head into the kitchen and looked at his Aunt and Uncle, the people he had despised living with for so many years, "I'm leaving then, goodbye." Vernon grunted his response without looking up from his paper, and Petunia didn't say anything.

Then, right when he got to the doorway, he heard his Aunt, "Goodbye Harry." He paused for a second, and then walked out the door of Privet Drive towards where Hermione was waiting by the street, glad he was leaving for good.

He smiled as he reached Hermione, "So, are you apparating us to the Burrow?" he asked, setting down the trunk he'd been hauling.

She smiled back, "Yes, but not here, too many muggles." And so they continued down the street, Hermione telling Harry of her brief stay with her parents "They're both safe, thankfully, no dark movements have been reported around their area." and the current state of wedding preparations at the Burrow "It's a mess, Fleur and Mrs. Weasley are driving Ginny mad."

At the mention of Ginny, Harry got quiet, not wanting to think about what he had very recently given up. "Actually, Ginny hasn't been talking about you at all; did you two have a fight?" Harry just shook his head. He didn't want to talk about his decision with Hermione. He knew she'd just say he was being stupid, and Ginny would be in danger with or without him. Unfortunately for him, Hermione wasn't put off that easily. "And now you don't want to talk about her, what's with the two of you?"

Harry saw there was no way around it, "We - I broke it off," he mumbled, "during the funeral."

"Harry! Why? You were so happy together!"

"It was the right thing to do." He didn't need Hermione to argue with him, he'd argued with himself often enough.

"Oh no, you decided you were going to be the hero and go take on Voldemort all by yourself, didn't you?"

"I'm not a hero, and yes."

"You are a hero, and the rest of us aren't helpless, Ginny's perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and she's in as much danger as anyone else anyway."

"And she'd be in much more danger if she was with me," Harry paused, "and I'm _not_ a hero."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave Harry that annoyingly condescending I know better than you do look that said the conversation was only finished for now as they turned the corner and came upon a spot that looked pretty devoid of people. "Alright, this is as good as we'll get, hold tight now."

Harry could tell she liked being the only one who could apparate, but did as he was told, and soon he felt that horrible squeeze that meant they were traveling towards the Burrow. As the world spun back into view around him, and he glanced across the field to the ramshackle house he knew so well, Harry took a deep breath. He could see tents set up near the house, clearly for the wedding, and above the house, he could clearly make out six redheaded specks flying on broomsticks.

He grinned at Hermione, "It's good to be home."


End file.
